


Yuri!!! On ICE 100 Writing Prompt Challenge!

by AzureKate



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 100 Writing Prompts Challenge, Fluff, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureKate/pseuds/AzureKate
Summary: A Yuri!! On ICE version of sunshockk's 100 Writing Prompts Challenge! Each chapter is one writing prompt, featuring the relationship between Yuri and Victor! <31. Victor wants to dance with Yuri, but Yuri is drunk. 2. Victor teaches Yuri how to give commands to Macca in Russian. 3. Victor takes Yuri to the beach! 4. At the beach, Victor gets blasted by a wave and hates the saltwater. 5: Yuri tries to cut Victor's hair, but he's bad at it. 6: Yuri likes to feed ducks, and Instagram loves it. 7. Victor and Yuri invite their friends to Russia to skate on a frozen lake. 8. Phichit and Christophe have a race on the lake, and the Yuri's take bets! 9. Yuri has a present he wants to buy Victor, but he doesn't have enough money.





	1. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor wants to dance with Yuri, but Yuri is too drunk to even stand.

  1. _Dance_



Yuri had undoubtedly passed his limit.

He let out a heavy sigh, swirling the alcohol in his glass and staring at it. It wasn’t just the liquid spinning… the glass itself looked like it was moving. He sighed again and squeezed his eyes shut. Normally, when heavily drunk, Yuri would get very out of hand, slobbering all over everyone and saying _whatever_ came to his mind without fail—even the most embarrassing things. He was plastered over the lovely marble island in Victor’s kitchen, truly unsure why he’d let himself get so out of hand. There wasn’t any particular special occasion, or any reason to mope around. He just started drinking in the middle of the night. He drank until he began to reach his theatrical state of being, but then before he’d knew it, he’d fallen far past it.  Now, he was just sitting in the kitchen in silence, with a half-finished glass that he knew he wouldn’t finish.

Victor was in the living room, sprawled across his couch reading a book with Macca. The radio in the room was playing _Duetto_ at a reasonable volume. Every few measures of music, he could hear Victor humming along to it, and _oh_ how he loved to hear Victor sing. His voice was so mesmerizing and alluring. Yuri would never get over Victor’s voice as long as he lived.

And then his voice would drift off, and Yuri would get just slightly peeved that he’d stopped. But, in an attempt to control his drunken self, he kept his mouth shut.

He pressed his face into the cool marble counter, and considered falling asleep.

“Yuri?” came Victor’s voice. Yuri mumbled a few incoherent words that not even he could truly understand. He’d definitely _thought_ a legitimate reply, but he couldn’t form real words. There were a few seconds of silence, before he heard Victor shuffling around in the living room. Then, he heard footsteps just beside him, and felt a familiar warmth near his face.

 _“Ugh,”_ Victor grumbled, pulling away from Yuri. “You smell _terrible._ Why have you done this?”

Yuri blinked hard at him. His face was a little blurry, but he smiled at him anyway. “What, you’ve never drank too much by accident?”

“No,” he said pointedly.

“Did you need something?” He adjusted himself, but couldn’t quite bring himself to sit up straight and face his fiancé.

“Well, your current state will not _allow_ for what I wanted,” Victor snapped. Yuri cringed, wishing that he could will his drunkenness away. Alas, it was not possible.

“And that was…what?”

“I wanted to dance with you, pork cutlet bowl,” he said, smiling. “I love this song. But it is not so fun to dance alone.”

Yuri giggled. “Yeah, I probably can’t do that right now.”

Despite his statement, he felt Victor grab his waist. Victor dragged him off the stool, and he stumbled around. He couldn’t stand up straight—or really at all. However, this did not deter Victor, who scooped him up into his arms and started walking toward the living room. Yuri was dangling limply in his arms.

“Um, Victor—“ Yuri started to say.

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“We are going to dance, Yuri. Even if I have to hold you,” he replied with a huge smile. Yuri’s vision was failing him, but he saw the smile and giggled. He was sure his face was as red as a tomato, and he was starting to sweat. Victor carried him into the living room, where the stereo was still playing _Duetto_. Yuri was sure it should have ended by then, and realized that Victor must have had the song on repeat. He really did love the song. Yuri could see the brown blob on the couch that he was sure was Macca, sitting on the cushions and watching his owner carry his fiancé to the center of the room.

“Think you can stand, pork cutlet bowl?”

“No.”

Despite his very sure answer, Victor tried to set Yuri down. Thankfully, Victor kept a firm hold on Yuri, holding him up when Yuri’s legs flopped out from beneath him and he started to fall. “Yuri! How could you let yourself get this drunk?”

“It’s fun,” Yuri slurred. “You should try it.”

“No thanks,” Victor snapped. “Stand up!”

Yuri giggled, but his legs were still the human limb equivalent of spaghetti noodles. He heard Victor let out an exasperated sigh, before he lifted him back into his arms.

“Fine,” Victor snapped. “I’ll carry you. I want you to dance with me.”

“Can’t this just wait until tomorrow? After I wake up tomorrow, I’ll throw up a few times, and then we can dance _all_ you want,” Yuri said, forcing himself to reach up and hold Victor’s neck so he could see his face. He figured that if Victor wanted to dance that badly, he could at least look at his face while they did so, rather than just hang there like a noodle.

The room fell very, _very_ silent. _Duetto_ continued to play, the two voices singing so beautifully. Then, though he couldn’t see well, Yuri _felt_ them start to dance. Victor took slow, spinning steps through the living room. When Yuri leaned in and stared at his face, he could see the passion in his sparkling eyes. Yuri frowned, wondering how Victor could put such raw passion into _everything_ he did.

Victor did a faster spin, and Yuri felt all the alcohol he’d drunk churn in his stomach. Not a good feeling. _Not_ good.

He choked down the urge to throw up, and returned his attention to Victor’s eyes. His re-focused attention seemed to help a little with his sudden-yet-definitely-expected nausea. As the song started to build up, Victor began to turn them around quickly, taking bigger steps and even leaning back with Yuri in his arms. A fear that Victor may drop him took root in Yuri’s mind, though he tried to reassure himself that Victor would never do such a thing.

But the next big turn had Yuri’s stomach clenching again. Oh, boy. It might come.

“I feel a little…” Yuri tried to say. But in the very brief moment before Victor looked at him, Yuri caught that tiny sparkle in his blue eyes that sent his head spinning. “How are you so beautiful no matter what you’re doing?” he mumbled, very quietly.

“What’s that?” Victor asked, spinning Yuri around again.

“I said, how are you so beau—I’m gonna throw up, I think,” he said hastily.

“No throwing up,” Victor snapped. “I will _kill_ you.”

“You should probably take me to the bathroom then.”

“The song is almost over! Can’t you hold on just a few more seconds?”

Yuri laughed, but didn’t say anything. Victor continued to dance around, although he was going slower, and not turning as much. Yuri felt him holding him just a bit tighter, and Yuri tried to relax in his arms and just watch his face. He wondered if Victor would ever consider carrying him around the house like this when he was sober.

He decided to ask. “Tomorrow, will you carry me like this when I’m not drunk anymore?”

“You are able to walk,” was Victor’s reply. So, no, he wouldn’t. Yuri sighed sadly. Victor seemed to catch on to his mood change, and he frowned. “It makes you that sad, Yuri? Fine, I will carry you. But not too long. My arms are already getting sore.”

He was going to drop him! “Please, Victor, don’t drop me!”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“You just said your arms are sore! If you drop me, I’ll throw up on your floor!”

“Calm down, Yuri. I’m trying to dance.”

The song began to end, growing softer, and Victor stood there holding Yuri. Finally, he looked at Yuri’s face—and smiled hugely.

“Your nose is red! It’s very cute, Yuri,” he beamed.

“I don’t feel cute.”

“Are you still going to throw up?”

“I’m good. It was the turning,” he slurred back. Now that they were standing still, he didn’t feel nearly as sick.

“Let’s go to bed then.” Victor carried Yuri toward the hallway to the bedroom. Just as he entered, he whistled back to Macca, who came running behind them. Victor lowered Yuri gently into the bed, and Yuri let himself relax into the blankets and pillows. Within seconds, he felt Victor climb into the bed behind him, snuggling up close—and not long after that, Macca hopped up and laid down at their feet.

Victor’s warmth made Yuri sweat, but it was a welcome comfort. He _loved_ being close to Victor.

“Thanks for the dance, love,” Victor murmured, kissing Yuri’s neck. “We’ll have to do it again…when you’re _not_ so drunk you can’t stand. Please…don’t do this again.”

The last sentence had a harshness that assured Yuri he was frowning. It sent a chill through Yuri’s body. He didn’t even need to look at Victor’s face.

“I promise,” he said.

“And promise me you’ll dance with me tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I promise.”

He heard Victor keep talking quietly, but Yuri’s eyelids drooped, and he quickly fell asleep.

“Yuri?” Victor asked. No reply; he propped himself up to look at Yuri’s face, and realized that within just seconds, the very drunk Yuri had managed to fall deeply asleep. Victor chuckled softly, and lay back down, pulling Yuri close and getting comfortable.

For as awful as Yuri’s breath smelled, Victor was pleased that at least his hair smelled nice.


	2. Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is trying to give commands to Macca, but he only knows the commands in Russian! So, Victor offers to teach Yuri Russian, if he teaches him Japanese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me, I don't speak Russian or Japanese. I was using google translate for this so apologies if anything is incorrect! (feel free to correct it!!) XD

  1. _Treat_



Yuri dangled the small brown dog treat above Macca’s head. “Sit, Macca!”

The dog was not interested in what Yuri was asking him to do. The dog remained standing, his tail wagging so hard that his entire butt was trembling. His sparkling eyes were locked onto the treat that Yuri was teasing him with. Disappointed that Macca was ignoring him, Yuri hid the treat in his pocket; the disappearance of the treat clearly disheartened Macca, whose ears drooped sadly. Yuri felt a twang of guilt watching the dog. He nearly admitted defeat.

Victor’s voice came from nearby. “Don’t give him the treat unless he sits.” His voice was unforgiving and demanding. It sent a shiver through Yuri’s body. Yuri’s heart clenched as he continued to keep the treat from Macca’s watering mouth. He pulled it back into sight to motivate the poodle.

“Sit!”

The dog still didn’t listen. His eyes were once again sparkling, staring longingly at the treat in Yuri’s fingers.

Victor sighed, and walked to stand beside his fiancé. He reached out and seized the treat, redirecting Macca’s attention toward himself. “ _Sidet!_ ” The dog sat on the floor, though he continued to wag his tail excitedly. Victor knelt and began scratching behind Macca’s ears, and finally offered him the treat. The poodle hungrily ate the treat from Victor’s hand, leaning into his scratches lovingly. His tail was still wagging furiously, and Victor kissed his furry face several times.

“That isn’t fair,” Yuri insisted. “He wasn’t taught using English words! He’ll never listen to me!”

“Maybe you should learn the commands in Russian, then,” Victor suggested. “You need to be in control of him, too, if we are going to live together.” He winked at Yuri, who became embarrassed and immediately began to blush.

“I don’t speak Russian,” Yuri pointed out.

Victor rolled his eyes at him. “Well it is a good thing that you’re engaged to someone who does! I will teach you.”

“U-uh,” Yuri stammered. “I don’t know how well I could speak Russian.”

“I will teach you Russian, if you teach me Japanese. Deal?”

“I guess?”

“Good! Teach me my first word, my _chasha iz svinoy kotletki!”_

Yuri’s eyes widened, and he stared at Victor in surprise. “Wait…what does _that_ mean?”

Victor smiled brightly, and it made Yuri lightheaded. It was the kind of smile that Yuri craved—he only saw it when Victor was having a _great_ time. “It’s the closest I can get in Russian to ‘pork cutlet bowl.’ Think you can say it?”

“Uh, you’d have to say it slower. A lot slower.”

“ _Chasha_ —“

Yuri tried to repeat the word.

“— _iz svinoy— kotletki_.”

Yuri knew he was botching the pronunciation. He saw Victor cringing, even though he was trying to hide it. Yuri finished the sentence, but Victor looked less than pleased. “I know it was terrible,” Yuri said before Victor could. “But it was my first time, give me a break!”

“It wasn’t _terrible_ …but it was definitely bad,” Victor said, chuckling. “Better than I expected, though, Yuri. Teach me something in Japanese.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and connected to his speakers through the Bluetooth. Within seconds, _Minami’s Boogie_ began playing. Yuri smirked at the fact that Victor still had the playlist of everyone’s programs. He walked to the pantry and pulled out a bag of Hershey kisses, before turning and sitting on one of the stools at his island. Yuri sat beside him, watching him unwrap a Hershey kiss.

“What word do you want to know?” Yuri questioned. Victor shrugged. “Um…okay. Try saying _ginpatsu._ ”

Victor repeated the word so perfectly that Yuri was stunned. He blinked.

“Did I get it?”

“Uh, yeah! That was really good actually…”

“What does it mean?”

“Silver hair.”

Victor stared at Yuri, frowning. “That’s uncreative. Teach me something better.”

 _Uncreative._ Yuri scoffed. What was he supposed to teach him to say? “Fine. _Anata wa utsukushidesu.”_

He purposely said it quickly, hoping that Victor wouldn’t be able to repeat it. But much to Yuri’s annoyance and fascination, Victor repeated the phrase back to him _almost_ perfectly. He had a small pronunciation problem with the last word, but otherwise was fine. And he stared right at Yuri’s eyes the entire time.

Yuri placed his hand on his chest, and smiled hugely—and theatrically. _“Thank_ you, Victor!”

Victor blinked in with confusion. “What did I say?”

“You told me I was beautiful,” Yuri replied, fluttering his eyelashes. Victor laughed. “All right, it’s your turn. You teach me how to say something.”

Victor stared lovingly at Yuri for a few seconds. “ _Ya lyublyu tebya_.”

Yuri took a moment, but then was positive that he’d heard the phase before. He’d translated it on his own spare time, and he knew exactly what it meant. He didn’t attempt to repeat it back to Victor at all. Instead, he blushed very hard, and replied, “ _Aishiteru_.”

Victor had a look on his face that gave away the fact that he was aware of what Yuri’s phrase mean, and that he was replying to him. He smiled hugely again, with such an air of happiness that Yuri almost drowned in it. Victor reached into the bag of Hershey kisses and pulled one out; he unwrapped it, and held it out for Yuri.

“What’s this for?” Yuri asked, taking the chocolate from him.

“A treat,” Victor replied. “For saying you loved me.”

Yuri blushed again and ate the chocolate. He reached into the bag and pulled one out for Victor, as well. “You said it, too. Here’s _your_ treat.”

Victor ate the chocolate that Yuri offered him, beaming with happiness. “We should do this more often, Yuri. But we were doing this to teach you dog commands in the first place. We strayed a bit from our goal.”

“Well, how do you say sit?”

“ _Sidet,” Victor said._ Yuri repeated it back to Victor, who shrugged. “Not bad, Yuri. Try to tell Macca to sit. See if he understands.”

Yuri turned on the stool to face the poodle, who was standing a few feet away. “Macca, _sidet_!”

The dog sat, and Yuri nearly bounced with excitement. He turned back to Victor to demand to learn more commands, but found that Victor was holding out another Hershey kiss for him. As usual, he blushed. He reached out for the Hershey kiss, and swallowed it. “Shouldn’t the dog get a treat for sitting, not me?”

“Yes, but you deserve one too, for learning to command in Russian!”

He pulled out another dog treat, and held it out to Macca, who devoured it happily.


	3. Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was one of Yuri's dreams to visit the beach, so Victor decides to grant that wish, even though he doesn't like the sand.

  1. _Sand_



Yuri had always wanted to go to the beach.

The gorgeous landscapes and scenery photos that he’d seen on the internet had always left him in awe, longing so terribly to see it in person. The beautiful, crystal blue waters, the lush greenery, the tall palm trees. It was Yuri’s dream place.

He mentioned it _once_ to Victor. He got lost in his descriptions, and showed Victor albums of beautiful beach pictures that he’d saved over the years on his phone. While he stared at the beach pictures, he noticed that Victor wasn’t really bothering to look at the pictures, but was staring at him, instead. Yuri was so invested in the beaches, though, that he didn’t notice enough to be subconscious about it.

For his birthday, he’d asked Victor for new skates. His old ones were getting too worn out, and were hurting his ankles. He expected to get the new skates, so when all Victor handed him was an envelope he was a little confused. He opened the envelope, and inside was just a card. Not even a nice card—it was a piece of paper torn to be smaller, and folded in half. Inside was written, _‘check your skates.’_ Then Yuri let out a sigh of relief. Victor must have put the new skates inside the box. He lumbered over to his box, and opened it. But inside were his same old, worn out black skates. Victor, who was standing over him, smiled anyway. “Look inside,” he instructed. Confused but interested, Yuri checked the inside of the skates.

Inside he found some pieces of paper. He pulled them out, wondering what the actual _hell_ Victor had hidden inside.

And he cried _so_ very hard when inside were plane tickets to Hawaii. So hard that Victor was concerned and had to instruct Yuri how to properly breathe.

And when they stepped onto the beach for the first time, Yuri was speechless. It was even better in real life than in pictures. He left Victor behind as he walked up toward the water. He went a few feet in, letting the waves crash into his legs. The water was cold, but Yuri didn’t even pay attention. He stared out at the ocean, and was so serene.

He’d never been so happy.

They were there for five days. On the fourth day, Yuri just sat at the ocean’s edge, letting the waves come into his lap. He could feel his trunks filling with sand every time a wave would come in, but he didn’t care.

“Yuri!”

He glanced back over his shoulder at Victor, who was sitting on a towel in the sand a few dozen feet up the beach. Victor waved him over, and Yuri slowly pulled himself up to go to his fiancé—hoping that he had a damned good reason for making him get up. It was still just after noon, and nowhere near time to go back to the hotel. He sat beside Victor in the sand, feeling it stick to his legs.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Look at this,” Victor instructed, holding out his phone. Yuri strained to see the screen in the bright sunlight, and Victor held his hand over the phone to try and block the light. Yuri focused in on what was on the screen: it was a text conversation with Yurio. Yurio had sent a picture to Victor, a picture of him _very_ close to Otabek.

“Are they dating, finally?” Yuri asked, squinting at the picture.

“Yes, _finally!”_ Victor cried. Yuri smiled at him. “Here, get close. Let’s send a picture back!”

Yuri chuckled and leaned in so their cheeks were touching. They both smiled at the front-facing camera, and Victor snapped a picture. He sent it to Yurio with the caption, _“Congratulations from the Nikiforovs!”_ Yuri choked on his spit and blushed harder than he ever had—they weren’t married yet but Victor was already addressing him as a Nikiforov.

“Are you all right, Yuri?” he asked, noticing Yuri’s struggle.

“I’m fine!” he exclaimed, smiling. “I’m happy they’re finally dating.”

_“Me, too!”_

Victor’s phone chimed as a new text arrived from Yurio: _“You’re on the beach?_ _придурки!”_

Victor laughed. Yuri wasn’t sure what the Russian part meant, but clearly Victor was getting a kick out of it. Victor typed a reply back in Russian, and even though Yuri still had no clue what the conversation was, he smiled at Victor’s clear enjoyment of the situation.

“Victor, come out into the water with me,” Yuri said.

“No, thanks, I’d rather not deal with the sand.”

“Don’t complain about sand, we’re on a beach!” Yuri scolded. “There’s sand everywhere. It washes out. You didn’t buy us tickets to Hawaii just to sit on a towel and text Yurio, did you?”

Victor sighed, rolling his eyes. Yuri grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. He took Victor’s hand firmly and started leading him toward the water. Before they got too far, Victor tossed his phone into their bag that was beside his towel. Yuri happily led his fiancé right to the water, not hesitating to walk right in. He heard some sounds of discomfort from Victor, but didn’t allow him to run back up onto the beach.

“It’s cold!” Victor complained. Yuri was still used to the water’s temperature—he’d been sitting or standing in it for a few hours. Victor hadn’t journeyed into the water even once since they’d been there. He’d been standing at its edge, smiling and laughing at Yuri and taking pictures of him. Victor’s Instagram was _full_ of pictures of Yuri on the beach and in the water. Every night after Victor fell asleep, Yuri would lie against his back on his phone and scroll through his Instagram to look at the pictures. Some had filters, some were closeups. Some of them looked close to professional. Yuri wondered where that skill had come from. He couldn’t get one good candid picture of Victor no matter how hard he tried.

Yuri dragged Victor further in. Even though they’d only gone a dozen feet or so into the water, the waves still only hit their calves. Finally releasing Victor, Yuri sat down in the water and let the next wave crash into his lap. He stared longingly up at Victor, who stood there for a moment looking torn. Finally, Victor slowly sat down beside him. The first wave that hit them made Victor shiver, and then he cursed in Russian.

“There’s sand in my shorts,” he said, defeated. Yuri laughed at him.

“The waves feel nice though, don’t they?” He watched Victor’s teeth chatter and tried not to giggle.

“Yes, so nice,” he lied. Yuri could tell it was a lie. He reached over and hugged Victor, planting a kiss on his cheek. Victor smiled at him, and gasped when a bigger wave crashed into their chests. The wave deposited sand into their laps, which visibly displeased Victor. “How do you like this?”

“How do you not?”

Victor looked out to sea, and Yuri seized the moment. He dug his fingers into the sand, scooping up a handful and lifting it above Victor head. He poured the water-soaked sand onto his head. Victor gasped sharply, immediately spewing Russian profanities at Yuri, who jumped up and ran further into the water.

“Yuri!” he cried, trying to wipe the sand out of his hair. “Why would you do that?”

Yuri was laughing uncontrollably. “Sorry, couldn’t help it! You were so vulnerable!”

Victor grabbed a handful of sand and stood. He threw the sand furiously at Yuri, and the sand hit his bare skin roughly. Yuri tried to block the sand with his arms, but he felt it blast into him nonetheless. He cried out, before kneeling down to grab more sand.

Victor was already jogging through the water back toward the beach in an attempt to escape. Yuri ran after him, holding his handful of dripping sand. Though he was in good shape from ice skating, Victor was still in better shape, and Yuri couldn’t quite catch up. So, he threw he sand with all his might, and watched with great pleasure as it splattered on Victor’s back. Victor turned around to face him, looking upset.

“You know you love me,” Yuri teased.

“Do I?” Victor asked, grabbing a handful of dry sand and charging toward Yuri. He threw the sand at him, and it stuck to Yuri’s wet skin like glue. Yuri held his hands up, silently promising Victor that he wasn’t going to throw anymore. Victor glanced down at himself and sighed angrily. “Look at all this sand.”

“We’re on a beach,” Yuri reminded him. “It’s everywhere.”

Victor looked utterly defeated. “I want to go back to the hotel.”

But Yuri wasn’t about to allow that. He went up to Victor, took his hand, and led him back toward the water. Victor grumped in protest, but Yuri didn’t budge. “I’ll help you wash the sand off,” he offered. They went a few dozen feet into the water, and Yuri ducked underwater to quickly rinse the sand off himself. When he reemerged, however, Victor was looking less than willing to dive under. With an exasperated sigh, Yuri began splashing water onto Victor to wash the sand away.

“This will _never_ go away,” he grumbled. “Sand is just like glitter.”

“You love glitter,” Yuri snapped.

“Well, glitter is pretty,” he replied. “I hope you know you are helping me wash all of this off tonight. You’ll never get it all now.”

Yuri blushed. “Is that an offer to share a shower?”

He chuckled. “Like we haven’t done that before.” Yuri purposely splashed water at Victor’s face, and he hurriedly spit the water out, gagging from the salt. When he regained his composure, he looked at Yuri. “I love you, my pork cutlet bowl, but if you throw sand at me again…we are breaking up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The russian bit that Yurio texts Victor means "assholes!"


	4. Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While at the beach, Yuri convinces Victor to go out to sea, but he gets swallowed by a wave. After calming down, Victor and Yuri make a joint Instagram account.

  1. _Salt_



 

At three o’clock on their fifth day at the beach, Yuri convinced Victor to come far enough into the water to be hit by the full blast of the waves.

The first wave that hit Victor dead on knocked him off his feet and threw him around. Victor inhaled water and got a face full of sand. When Yuri pulled him out of the water, he was coughing furiously and spitting out saltwater like it was poison. Yuri knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but laugh at Victor. It was Yuri’s first time on the beach, but he’d learned from watching others in the water than when a huge wave approached, you had to dive through it—or it would wash you back up onto the shore. He’d told Victor that, too, and even had him watch someone do it. But still, Victor’s aloofness and proven stronger than Yuri’s warnings. Victor took the wave straight on, and was tossed back onto the beach like a ragdoll.

“Are you okay?” Yuri asked, lifting Victor up above the water and holding him firmly as more waves crashed against their legs. “I told you that you have to dive through the big ones.”

“You did?” Victor coughed. “I don’t remember. Ugh, the salt!” He continued to spit, trying to get the salt out of his mouth. “This tastes terrible, Yuri.”

“Well, yeah. It’s saltwater. Come back out with me! And this time, dive _through_ the big waves. Don’t just stare at them.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Yuri let Victor catch his breath, and then pulled him back out into the water when there was a moment of calmness. Thankfully, the first wave to approach was significantly smaller, and the two just floated over it. But after a few moments, a big wave started to approach. Yuri grabbed Victor’s arm to get his attention. “We have to go _under_ this wave,” Yuri said, watching the wave grow in size and it drew closer. Victor was staring at it like a deer in headlights. “Victor?”

“Yes, I heard you,” he said.

The wave reached them, and Yuri dove through it. When he reemerged, however, Victor was nowhere in sight. “Victor?” he called. After a few seconds, Victor emerged—back up on the beach.

Yuri quickly swam toward him; Victor was on his hands and knees, coughing up saltwater once again. Yuri knew immediately that Victor hadn’t listened to him, and had been caught in the wave _again!_ Yuri knelt beside him, and patted his back. When Victor had coughed up enough water, he took a deep breath and looked at Yuri.

“I don’t like it,” he stated, frowning. “I tried to go under! It still flipped me over.”

“You must not have gone deep enough,” Yuri said with a chuckle.

“I’m not going back out,” Victor said, going back up onto the beach. Yuri followed him, watching as he collapsed back onto the beach towel beside their bag. He took a few deep breaths, before spitting into the sand. “Salt!”

Yuri laughed and sat down beside him in the sand.

“Yuri, please don’t throw sand on me,” Victor said. Yuri stared at him; he hadn’t even _reached_ for the sand. Victor wiped his eyes, and spit again. Yuri heard Victor’s phone chime in their bag; seeing that Victor was still preoccupied, Yuri reached in and fished out his phone. He unlocked it—Victor had finally told him his password!—and looked who had texted him. Once again, it was Yurio: _“How’s the beach?”_ Yuri giggled and replied: _“Victor just almost drowned. -Yuri”_

“Who are you texting, Yuri?” Victor questioned from beside him.

“Yurio,” he answered honestly.

Another text arrived. _“How?”_

Yuri gleefully typed back, _“He tried to go out to sea but a wave brought him back!”_

Victor seized his phone, reading the texts that Yuri had been sending. “I did not almost drown!” he exclaimed before furiously typing something to Yurio. Yuri leaned over his shoulder to see what he was sending. His text read: _“Yuri is exaggerating. I’m fine.”_

“You’re not fine. You got washed up,” Yuri said, laughing harder. Victor frowned at him.

Perfectly content to sit beside Victor instead of the water, Yuri leaned back and felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He opened his eyes to stare at the water, listening to the waves. He sat there for a long while, taking in the environment.

“Yuri?”

Yuri looked at Victor, and realized that Victor was staring at his face. He blushed. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well…it’s our last day here,” Yuri replied, becoming a little sad. He took a deep breath of the salty air. Victor reached over and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close.

“We can come back,” Victor said.

“When?”

“We can come for our honeymoon. And as many times after that as you like,” he said with a smile. Yuri couldn’t help but smile back.

“That means I have to actually convince you to marry me, first,” Yuri said jokingly.

“One Gran Prix golden medal is all it takes, my love!” Victor said.

 _“If_ I ever get one,” Yuri said, starting to sulk.

“Not if, when,” Victor insisted. “And if you absolutely _cannot_ get that gold medal…I _guess_ I may find it in my heart to marry you anyway.”

Butterflies rushed into Yuri’s stomach, and in a moment of passion, he turned and kissed Victor. Victor was taken by surprise, and stared wide-eyed at Yuri. Yuri returned his attention to the ocean waves, smiling serenely.

“You know, if you really will miss the beach that much, we can always fill the bathwater with salt. It’ll be exactly the same!” Victor teased. Yuri laughed heartily.

“If we do that, you have to let me dunk you under and pretend there was a wave.”

Victor frowned. He directed his attention back to his phone, and began scrolling through Instagram. Most of the pictures he scrolled past were selfies uploaded by Phichit. He passed one particularly provocative picture that Chris uploaded. He took a second to giggle at it, before scrolling past before Yuri had a chance to see it. He glanced at Yuri and saw that Yuri was once again staring at the ocean. Very quietly and carefully, Victor opened the camera and aimed it at Yuri’s face. Making sure the phone was silenced, he began taking pictures. Most of them were just ok, but there was one—a closeup of Yuri’s eyes with the beach behind him—that Victor fell in love with. He deleted all the others, and went to upload the picture to his Instagram. He scrolled through the filters to see if any improved it. But none of the filters made Yuri’s eyes more beautiful than they already were, so he passed the filter page.

He tried to think of a caption that wasn’t too cheesy, but that just wasn’t like him. He ended up typing in, _“Deep like the sea.”_ —referring to his eyes. He posted it, smiling to himself.

Finally, he looked at Yuri. “We should make a joint Instagram account.”

Yuri looked at him, surprised by the sudden statement. “Why?”

“My entire Instagram is pictures of you,” Victor said. “Your Instagram is pictures of me. We should just make a single account.”

Yuri shrugged, but smiled warmly when he looked away. Victor caught it and smiled back. His phone vibrated as Chris liked his post. Shortly thereafter, there was a comment. Victor clicked on the post to read it; it was a comment from Chris that read: _“You are_ too _in love.”_

Almost immediately after, a like and a comment from Phichit popped up: _“He looks so deep in thought!”_

“I’m going to make us one,” Victor said, before promptly logging out of his Instagram to create a new one. He quickly went to google and created a new email for them to share, to use for the new account.

“Name it something good!”

“What should I name it?”

“Well your Instagram is just V Nikiforov. Can’t ours just be something like V and Y Nikiforov?”

Victor shrugged. “How about V and PCB Nikiforov?”

“What does that mean?”

“Pork cutlet bowl, of course,” he replied. Yuri shook his head adamantly. “Okay, fine. V and Y it is. That’s boring though. I wonder if I can put a heart.”

“A heart, seriously?”

 _“Proklyat’ye!_ It won’t let me put the heart.”

Yuri laughed at him. “Good! That’s a little over the top.”

“What should our password be, Yuri? Something we’ll both remember.”

“The date we got engaged,” Yuri said without hesitation.

“Good idea!” Victor exclaimed, smiling brightly. “And when we get married, we’ll change it.” He typed on his phone screen while Yuri watched intently. “Okay, it’s finished, Yuri. I’ll post on my Instagram that we made the joint one. You should too.” Victor held the phone over so Yuri could see their new account. The username was **v.y.nikiforov**. Yuri watched as Victor scrolled through his camera roll, looking for a good profile picture of the two. He settled on the selfie the two had taken to send to Yurio the day before. He set the picture and resized it, then confirmed. Victor’s smile was huge, and his happiness oozed over to Yuri like a perfume.

“I like it,” Yuri declared.

“Yuri, go out into the water so I can get a good first picture for our new account!” Victor exclaimed. Yuri jumped up from the sand and jogged toward the water. He went a good distance in. “Yuri, turn and face me!” Before Yuri got situated, Victor started to record a video. “Back up more, go farther out!” Yuri took some steps back, and Victor grinned when a big wave started to rise behind him. “Farther! Keep going!” He giggled.

The wave crashed into Yuri’s back, pulling him underwater and out of sight.

The video ended with Victor laughing uproariously.

He posted the video, and added the caption, _“#karma.”_

 


	5. Clip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri attempts to cut Victor's hair. While doing so, Victor asks Phichit how good Yuri is at cutting hair... He isn't.

  1. _Clip_



 

“Let me cut it,” Yuri suggested. Victor stared at him unenthusiastically from his stool at the kitchen island.

“Yuri, have you ever cut hair before?” he asked, connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speakers and starting the song _Stay Close to Me ~ Aria._

“Yes! I cut Phichit’s hair once when we were training in Detroit,” Yuri said. “I’ll just cut it a little bit. Back to the length of the Grand Prix.”

“Yuri—“

“Yes, Victor.”

“If you cut it badly, I will shave your entire head.”

Yuri gulped, running his hand through his black hair. He didn’t _want_ to be bald. He shivered, but nodded to him. Victor gave a light nod, and a smiling but nervous Yuri began to get ready. He set a broom nearby to sweep up the hair from the floor when he was finished. He grabbed some scissors from the desk, ready to make do with the fact that they didn’t have legitimate hair clippers. Victor sat at his stool almost anxiously, watching Yuri intently as he scurried around with the scissors, getting ready to attempt cutting his hair.

Yuri came up behind him, and Victor heard him take a deep breath. Yuri’s hands grabbed at Victor’s hair, and he started to carefully cut it.

While Yuri was completely immersed in cutting Victor’s hair, Victor pulled out his phone and opened his texting app. He started a text conversation with Phichit, thankful that he had remembered to get his phone number.

 

Victor Nikiforov

**(Hey, Phichit. I have a question for you.)**

 

Phichit Chulanont

**(…)**

**(Hey, Victor! What’s your question?)**

Victor

**(Yuri said he has cut your hair before.)**

 

Phichit

**(Yes, he has, unfortunately.)**

 

Victor

**(Unfortunately??)**

 

Phichit

**(…)**

**(…)**

 

Victor

**(Phichit??)**

 

Phichit

**(…)**

**(…)**

**(He’s kind of bad at it.)**

 

Victor

**(Should I be concerned then?)**

 

Phichit

**(Is he cutting your hair?)**

 

Victor

**(Yes.)**

 

Phichit

**(…)**

**(Yeah you should probably be concerned. :’P)**

Yuri noticed that Victor was having a text conversation. “Who are you texting?” He carefully cut a lock of gray hair. It scattered to the floor.

“No one,” Victor replied, effectively avoid the question. “Are you cutting well? Are you paying attention?”

“Yes, I’m trying.”

“You’re _trying?”_

Victor’s phone chimed as another text arrived.

 

Yurio Plisetsky

**(** **Привет, Виктор)**

Victor Nikiforov

**(What do you need, Yurio?)**

Yurio

**(Want to get lunch)**

 

Victor

**(I would, but Yuri is cutting my hair)**

 

Yurio

**(That’s a** **O** **.** **Ш** **.** **И** **.** **Б** **.** **К** **.** **А** **.)**

 

Victor

**(Why is it a mistake?)**

 

Yurio

**(Haven’t you seen the pictures of Phichit’s hair from back when Yuri cut his)**

**(…)**

**(Let me find them)**

**(…)**

**(…)**

 

Victor was growing increasingly anxious while the tiny typing bubble remained on the text screen.

“Kuso…” Yuri mumbled behind him.

“What? What is it?” Victor demanded. He knew that ‘kuso’ was a profanity. He looked down when his phone chimed.

 

Yurio **has sent an image.**

Victor stared at the picture in horror. It was a screenshot of Phichit’s Instagram; it was a selfie of a glum-looking Phichit posing with a horrid, choppy haircut. The caption was: _Let Yuri cut my hair. Lesson learned! DX”_

“Yuri,” Victor said sternly. “Stop cutting.”

“I only messed up a little bit!”

Victor scrambled for a mirror, and looked at himself in horror.

He was _incredibly_ thankful that Yuri had not touched the front.


	6. Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri likes to feed the ducks by their home, and it's a popular topic on Instagram.

  1. Bread



 

 

**v.y.nikiforov**

_(image)_

♡ **7, 842 likes**

 **v.y.nikiforov** Who knew that Yuri was a fan of ducks? #ducks #cute #bread #family

 **phichit+chu** I could have told you that! He loves them!

 **christophe-gc** Kiss him while he’s not paying attention, ohhh  <3 <3

 **yuri-plisetsky** _@christophe-gc_ that’s disgusting, извращенец

                _view all 134 comments_

_21 hours ago_

 

Victor stared at the picture he’d posted, pleased, as usual, with the candid picture he’d managed to take of Yuri. Yuri was hunched over a pond, wearing dark jeans and an oversized sweater, holding out a chunk of white bread to a gorgeous male mallard duck. A small female was floating a few feet behind the male. It was one of the many pictures that Victor posted without a filter. He smiled at it—he was getting really, really good at taking secret pictures of Yuri. Of course, they weren’t secret for long, since Yuri used the same Instagram and always saw them not long after they were uploaded.

His eyes widened when he refreshed the page and saw that there was a new post on their Instagram.

 

**v.y.nikiforov**

_(image)_

♡ Liked by **phichit+chu, christophe-gc, yuri-plisetsky** and **4 others**

 **v.y.nikiforov** Victor thinks he’s cute because he takes so many pictures of me. Two can play at this game

 **phichit+chu** Revenge is sweet! >:)

 **christophe-gc** One of you has to kiss the other when they’re not paying attention! :* :* :*

 **yuri-plisetsky** _@christophe-gc_ КРИС, ПОЖАЛУЙСТА!!

                _View all 5 comments_

_7 minutes ago_

Victor stared at the picture with a huge smile. It was a picture of him sitting in the very same position, in the same place on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He glanced behind him, and Yuri was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

“Yuri,” Victor greeted. “I like your picture. But I wish you could see my face.”

“We can’t all be expert photographers,” Yuri teased, walking around the couch to sit with Victor. He sat between Victor’s legs, and leaned back against his chest. Victor held his phone above Yuri’s head, saving the picture Yuri had taken to his camera roll. Cautiously, he opened the camera and aimed it down at Yuri laying back in his lap against his chest. He took the overhead picture, smirking, and opened Instagram. Yuri didn’t suspect a thing. Damn, he was good at this.

 

**v.y.nikiforov**

_(image)_

**_v.y.nikiforov_ ** _Yuri is so cute, but I will always be the better photographer #loveyou #iwin_

_1 minute ago_

                Even though Victor could see that Yuri still had Instagram open on his phone, Yuri didn’t notice the new picture. They sat in silence, both scrolling through Instagram.

“Victor!” Yuri suddenly exclaimed. Victor thought for a moment that Yuri saw the new picture. “Look, Victor!” He held up his phone so that Victor behind him could see the picture on the screen. It was a picture of Yuri and Otabek kissing.

“Oh!” Victor said. “Look at that.”

 

**otabek-altin**

_(image)_

♡ **1,387 likes**

 **otabek-altin** I like him

 **phichit+chu** So cute! #truelove

 **christophe-gc** When will you take it to the next level, ooooooh  <3 <3 :* :*

 **yuri-plisetsky** _@christophe-gc_ Крис, я тебя ненавижу, тебе отвратительно

 **yuri-plisetsky** _@christophe-gc_ Извращенец!

 **christophe-gc** _@yuri-plisetsky_ Calm down! :’(

                _view all 68 comments_

_4 hours ago_

“What is Yuri saying to Chris?” Yuri inquired. Victor just laughed.

“Very mean things,” Victor assured him. “He’s saying he hates him, that he’s disgusting and a pervert. He does not like Chris much.”

They relaxed once again. Yuri closed out Instagram, disappointing Victor—although he knew that Yuri would see the picture eventually. He began scrolling down through Facebook instead. Suddenly, he turned off his phone and sat up.

“Where are you going?” Victor asked longingly.

“I want to check if the ducks are back today,” Yuri replied. He stood from the couch and went to the window. He peered through the glass, and his face lit up. “They are! Will you come with me?”

Victor stood up. “Sure, why not?”

Yuri went to the kitchen and grabbed the loaf of bread from on top of the fridge; he opened it and pulled out two pieces, setting them on the counter while he went to get his sweater and shoes. Victor followed suit and got ready to go outside. Once they were both ready, Yuri grabbed the bread from the counter and they went toward the door to head outside.

They went to the pond outside, where the ducks were wading peacefully. They had come to recognize Yuri after many weeks of being fed; when they saw him approaching with bread in hand, they swam to the edge of the pond to greet him.

“Hi, guys!” Yuri exclaimed, kneeling down beside the water. The ducks were quacking excitedly as he tore the first pieces of bread from the slice to toss to them. The male duck swam right up to Yuri’s hand and ate a piece from the end of his finger. The female stayed back a few feet, waiting for Yuri to toss her a separate piece. After the male ate two or three pieces from his hand, Yuri tossed a piece to the female, who hungrily ate it.

“They really like you,” Victor observed. “You are like a duck whisperer!” Victor snapped a picture on his phone of the male eating a piece from Yuri’s hand.

“I love them. I wish you could have ducks as pets,” Yuri said, tossing another piece to the female.

“We can’t keep ducks,” Victor sighed.

“I know, I said I _wish._ Here, come feed them!”

Victor walked over to kneel beside Yuri, who handed him a few pieces of bread. Curiously, Victor placed a single piece in his palm and held it out toward the male. However, the male was very cautious of Victor’s presence, and turned to swim away.

“Ouch, rejection,” Yuri said with a giggle. “Guess he doesn’t like you as much as me.”

“I don’t need any ducks, I have Maccachin!” Victor cried, tossing the bread out into the water. He watched as the ducks hungrily pecked the bread pieces from the water’s surface. He stood and walked a few paces away from the water’s edge, attempting to give the cold shoulder to the rude male duck—but the duck didn’t seem to care much as it returned to the side to continue eating from Yuri’s hand.

“You stick with Maccachin, and I’ll feed the ducks,” Yuri declared. He finished off the first bread slice and began to rip apart the second slice.

While Yuri continued to offer the last of the bread, Victor uploaded his new picture to Instagram with a bright smile. He loved uploading pictures of Yuri onto their Instagram—especially since he was confident in his photography skills.

Finally, Yuri stood. “Okay, I’m done.”

The two went back home, and after discarding their shoes, Yuri immediately went to the couch and laid down on his stomach. Victor disappeared down the hallway, either to the bathroom or their bedroom. Yuri heard his voice call to him from the depths of the hallway. “Yuri, let’s go to the ice arena tonight to practice.”

“Okay,” he called back nonchalantly. He hadn’t skated for two days, and he was itching to go back.

He saw that he had a notification on his phone. He clicked on it, and Instagram opened. He saw the first picture of himself in Victor’s lap from earlier, which was gathering likes as he sat there staring at it. Then he saw the second picture, which was a picture of himself hand-feeding the mallard duck. He smiled at it. Victor was great at taking pictures.

 

**v.y.nikiforov**

_(image)_

 

♡ Liked by **christophe-gc, yuri-plisetsky, phichit+chu, and 19 others**

 **v.y.nikiforov** It’s a special connection

 **phichit+chu** #duckwhisperer

                _view all 11 comments_

_24 minutes ago_

                Yuri saved the picture to his phone.


	7. Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuri invite their friends to come state on a frozen lake in Russia, where they can see fish swimming beneath the ice!

  1. _Fish_



* * *

 

 

_Nov 13 th, 8:32AM_

 

                + _Yuri Katsuki added Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetksy, Phichit Chulanont, Christophe Giacometti, Otabek Altin, and JJ Leroy_

 

**Yuri**

Hey, guys! Just a reminder that a week from now on the 20th is the day we’re all going to the frozen lake. Let us know if you need a place to stay while you’re here for the night because I know some of you are flying in. Make sure you let us know that you’re for sure coming.

 

**Yurio**

I’m driving over and I’m staying with you

 

**Yuri**

Ok, Yurio. You get first dibs on which guest room then

 

**Yurio**

I always get the basement one.

 

**Victor**

Yes, you always do.

 

**Phichit**

I’m coming! I need a place to stay too!

 

**Victor**

You can have my second guest room. It’s smaller though.

**Phichit**

That’s fine! I’m flying in on the 19th

 

**Christophe**

I’m coming too, loves! I’m sharing a bed with Victor, ok? ;)

 

**Yurio**

Who the hell invited you

 

**Yuri**

The other half of the bed is mine, sorry. And we invited everyone, Yurio

 

**Yurio**

я всех ненавижу

 

**Victor**

That’s a lie! <3  <3

 

**Christophe**

???

 

**Otabek**

I’m coming

 

**JJ**

Who added me to this chat

 

**Yuri**

I did, JJ, you said you were interested in coming

 

 **_JJ_** _has left the group_

**Yuri**

Okay, well, for everyone who is coming, we’re excited and see you then!

 

                    ✓ _Seen by everyone_

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri pulled his laces tight, flexing his ankle to make sure the skates were secure. He scrolled through the old conversation, rereading the messages and looking specifically for Otabek’s confirmation. They were at the edge of the lake, which was crystal clear and completely frozen. Victor was standing a few feet away from him, while the others—Yurio, Phichit, and Christophe—were a little farther down the shore, putting on their skates. Yurio was leaned over his own phone.

“He said he was coming, yes?” Victor asked, kneeling down next to Yuri.

“Yeah, right here,” Yuri replied, pointing to Otabek’s single message in their group chat.

"I wonder why he isn’t here. He was supposed to fly in this afternoon.”

“I wonder if his flight got delayed?” Yuri wondered aloud. Victor stood and looked toward Yurio.

“Yurio!” he called. “Has Otabek texted you?”

“He’s typing to me now,” Yurio replied without looking—his eyes were glued to his phone screen while he slowly pulled a skate on with one hand. They heard Yurio’s phone chime after a long few moments. “He says his flight got delayed seven hours. He won’t get here until tonight.” Yuri dropped his phone into his lap, looking visibly upset.

“We can come back to the lake tomorrow when he’s here,” Victor said. Yurio ignored him and began to tie his laces in silence. Without waiting for anyone else to be ready, Victor stepped out onto the frozen lake and glided away from the shore. Yuri watched him go farther, then turn back around to skate back toward the others. “Come on! You are too slow!” He span around to go back the other way. Yuri pushed himself up onto his blades and jumped onto the ice, shoving his phone into his coat pocket as he sped toward Victor, who was going toward the center of the lake.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Phichit coming out onto the ice, but Christophe and Yurio were still lacing their skates. The three on the ice were considerably spread out; Yuri thought about catching up with Victor but changed his mind, and instead glided along the lake’s surface at a nice steady pace, feeling the chilled breeze on his face. It was _almost_ painfully cold, but not quite there. It was nice.

“Yuri!” Phichit called. Yuri span around to face his friend. Phichit was hunched over, skating slowly and staring down into the ice.

“What?” Yuri asked, skating toward him.

“There’s a fish under the ice.”

Yuri looked down into the ice by Phichit’s feet; surely enough, there was a dark form at the lake bottom, swimming along peacefully. Even though the fish wasn’t particularly in a hurry, it was still aware that Yuri and Phichit were there. It was swimming away from them, darting side to side to avoid their shadows.

“There’s one over here, too,” Victor said, though he didn’t stop skating to watch it. He pointed at I, then continued to speed across the ice.

Yuri nearly tumbled over in surprise when Chris flew past him unexpectedly. Phichit broke into uproarious laughter while Yuri struggled; he caught his toepick on the ice and nearly wiped out, but recovered at the last second.

“Sorry!” Chris called back unapologetically. He chuckled as he went past.

“Yuri, are you all right?” Victor asked. Yuri waved to him with a nod. He stood there for a moment, unmoving—trying to regain his composure. Phichit came over and patted him on the back once before going to join Victor and Chris at the center of the lake. Yuri almost joined them, then noticed Yurio still wasn’t on the ice with them. He looked back to the shore, and saw Yurio sitting at the edge. His skates were laced and he was ready, but instead he was still on his phone. Yuri went over to him, and Yurio glanced up at him but didn’t say anything.

“Are you coming out?” Yuri asked curiously. He saw that Yurio was texting—probably still with Otabek. Yurio glanced up at him again.

“Yeah, when I want to,” Yurio snapped.

Yuri could tell Yurio was upset that Otabek’s flight was delayed. “Come check out the fish. It’s pretty cool that you can see them through the ice.”

“I will in a minute,” he insisted. Yuri sighed and crossed his arms, standing still at the edge of the ice next to Yurio’s feet. After a few moments, Yurio glared at him. “Are you going to stand there all day?”

Yuri didn’t answer, and finally Yurio slid his phone into his coat pocket and stood. Yuri smiled. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes, where are the damn fish?” He was still glaring.

Yuri turned and led Yurio out a few dozen feet, watching through the ice for a fish. Eventually he spotted one and pointed it out to Yurio, who sped over to where it was. It was startled and swam a few feet, but Yurio calmly followed it, and began to shadow it. Yuri smiled, because he could tell Yurio was more amused by the fish than he wanted to be.

Suddenly, there was yelling near the edge of the lake. Yuri turned to look and see what was going on, and saw a group of men with hockey gear approaching. He watched as they sat on the edge and began to quickly lace up their skates.

One of them looked at Yuri and began calling to him in Russian. Victor had been gradually teaching Yuri to speak Russian, but he still wasn’t fluent enough to hold a conversation. The man beckoned Yuri over, and even though he knew that he wouldn’t be able to communicate, Yuri went over to him. The man started to quickly speak in Russian, gesturing to the lake and to Yuri’s friends. Yuri caught a few words, but otherwise had no idea what he was saying. The man realized that Yuri didn’t understand and looked frustrated.

Yuri turned to look and see which of the Russians in his group was closest—Victor was still far out, apparently about to engage in a competition with Chris. Yurio was closer, still following the fish; he was back on his phone, typing with one hand. Yuri cupped his mouth with one hand and called, “Yurio!”

Yurio looked over, and saw the men in the hockey gear. He put his phone back in his pocket and made his way over to Yuri’s side. “What’s going on?”

“They’re speaking in Russian; I’m still not good enough at it to understand,” Yuri explained. Yurio faced the man and said something in Russian. Within a few moments, the two were engaged in a conversation in Russian.

Yuri looked out to the lake, and saw that the three out in the center had noticed the hockey players. Victor was on his way over.

Yurio suddenly exclaimed something angrily, and Yuri jumped a bit. The conversation they were having quickly became heated.

Victor quickly approached and skidded to a stop next to the two; he slid around so he was slightly in front of Yurio, who was getting visibly angry. With a smile, he greeted the men and took over the conversation.

“What’s going on?” Yuri asked curiously.

“They want us to leave the lake so they can play hockey! Stupid jerks,” he spat. “They act like they own the lake.”

Yuri watched Victor talk with the hockey players; more of the men were standing and getting in the conversation. Even though Victor was gradually getting outnumbered, he was still calm and smiling.

Finally, the hockey players nodded. They turned around to keep preparing for their game, and Victor span around to face the two Yuris.

“Well?” Yurio demanded.

“The lake is not very wide but it’s long. We’ll go to the other end, and they’re going to stay at this end. Problem solved!” With a smile, he gestured to the far end of the lake, and he took Yuri’s arm as he started to skate. Yurio followed closely behind, glaring over his shoulder at the hockey players. Victor looked to Chris and Phichit who were still out at the middle of the lake, watching them. “We are going to the other end of the lake!” He pointed to the distance.

They both nodded and turned to start headed the same direction. Yuri could hear Yurio behind him cursing under his breath. He looked down and saw three fish in front of them, swimming toward the other end of the lake.

Yuri chuckled and nudged Victor, who looked at him. Yuri pointed to the fish, “Looks like they’re coming with us.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lake they're at is based on Lake Blanktjärn in Sweden, which freezes crystal clear so you can see fish through the ice. It can be seen in this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLjP6AhIt9g  
> I have no idea if there are lakes like this in Russia? But for the sake of this prompt, we'll say there are! ^_^


	8. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit and Christophe have a race around the lake, and the two Yuri's bet on who will win! Although, there may be some cheating...

  1. _Race_



 

“Bet!”

Phichit took off across the long frozen lake without warning, and Chris began yelling after him angrily as he tried to catch up. Yuri, Victor, and Yurio watched them in surprise as they flew across the lake surface.

“What did Chris say? I didn’t even hear,” Yuri said, watching his friends skate as fast as they could toward the opposite end of the lake where the men were still playing a heated game of hockey.

“Sounded like Chris said he could go around the lake and back faster than Phichit,” Victor said with a massive smile.

“They’re going to annoy the hockey players,” Yurio said. “If they come over here to complain, I’m going to kick their asses!”

They watched Phichit and Chris going along the edge of the lake, nearing the hockey game. They stayed as close to the perimeter as they could, but surely enough, the three of them could hear the hockey players yelling at them. It didn’t look like the two were paying the angry men any mind—of course, neither Phichit nor Chris could speak Russian, so it was unlikely they understood their yelling anyway. They crossed the width of the lake to the other side behind the hockey goal, and began their quick skating back toward Victor and the two Yuris. Chris was just a few feet behind Phichit, and it looked like he was going to easily pass him before they made it halfway back.

“Let’s bet,” Yurio suddenly said. “I bet on Chris.”

“I think Phichit’s got it!” Yuri exclaimed. They both looked to Victor with anticipation, but he looked less than inclined to join their bet. He scratched his head and chuckled at them.

“Come on, Chris!” Yurio yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Beat that Thai punk!”

 _“Phichit!”_ Yuri screamed with a cracking voice, louder than Yurio who stared in shock.

The yelling visibly encouraged both to work harder. Foot by foot, Phichit got farther ahead of Chris. They could see the effort on their faces.

Yuri skated forward a few feet and held his hands out to serve as a finish line. Much to Yuri’s happiness and Yurio’s dismay, Phichit flew by first, smacking Yuri’s hand just seconds before Christophe. Yuri’s hand—which was already cold—tingled from the force of the hit, but he was too distracted by Phichit’s victory to really notice. Yurio skated away angrily; while Yuri would have normally been conscious of Yurio’s emotions, he was _excited_ to see him upset, because he had won!

“I knew you’d win!” Yuri cried, giving Phichit and aggressive high five.

“That’s because he _cheated!”_ Christophe cried. He glided over to Victor and practically threw himself on him, obnoxiously fake-crying onto his shoulder. Yuri noticed and felt a twang of jealousy—but pushed it aside quickly.

“I didn’t cheat,” Phichit insisted.

“You did!” he wailed. “You had a head start! I want a rematch.”

“No rematch, old man!”

_“I am not old!”_

“Sorry, Yurio, I won the bet!” Yuri boasted toward Yurio, who was looming a few dozen feet away. He threw a poisonous glare at Yuri—though it didn’t bother him in the slightest. When Yuri didn’t show any signs of being affected, Yurio spewed furious Russian at him. Yuri didn’t understand a single word of it.

But something he said visibly upset Victor. “Yurio!” he snapped, pushing Christophe away. Yuri looked at him in surprise. Yurio said something under his breath, before turning and skating even further away. Yuri went over to Victor; Victor wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“What did he say?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Victor replied. He pecked Yuri’s forehead, then released him and skated away. Yuri watched him go, really wishing he would just tell him. He could already tell it was going to drive him crazy.

Phichit skated over to him. “What did Yurio say to you? Did Victor tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” Yuri replied. “I wish he would I want to know.”

“Oh, well. If Yurio wants to get his panties in a bunch. He’s just upset because Otabek’s not here.” Phichit turned and skated away, and Yuri followed him.

Trying to distract himself, Yuri looked over to Christophe, who was still acting like a drama queen. He was skating in figure eights in a fluid motion, like he was upset. He was, of course, joking and not actually upset, but the show he was putting on was incredibly theatrical and overdramatic—it was incredibly _Christophe._ He appeared to have missed the entire situation. His obliviousness made Yuri smile.

“Please, Phichit, a rematch!” he waited. Phichit laughed obnoxiously at him, not even bothering to give any form of reply beyond that. Christophe skated toward him, reaching out for him; Phichit ducked away from him, effectively escaping his grasp. Christophe whined, chasing after him half-heartedly.

Yuri looked around and saw that Victor was talking to Yurio quite far across the lake. Neither looked happy about the conversation, though it wasn’t a visibly heated one. Victor looked more disappointed; Yuri could cue himself in on Victor’s emotions very quickly. His arms were crossed, his brows were furrowed, angled slightly up. He looked like an upset dad, to be honest.

And Yurio looked very much like a kid who was being scolded, and regretted their decision. It only served to make Yuri even more curious about what Yurio had said to him in Russian. He wished he had learned more Russian, so he could have at least caught a single word in his statement—which was apparently an offensive insult of some kind.

 _“Fine!”_ Phichit yelled. “Let go! We’ll have a rematch.”

“Ok, this time—” Christophe took off.

Yuri burst into laughter; Phichit furiously tried to catch up, but Christophe had stolen the head start for the rematch. It was only fair, as Phichit _did_ indeed have a head start to their first race.

This time, Yuri pulled his phone from his pocket, and began to record their race. He zoomed in a bit to see them as they went farther and farther down the lake. Through his zoomed camera, he could see that the hockey players had noticed them approaching a second time, and were not happy about it. They had stopped their game to all face them and watch them. As they neared the end and began to round the corner, Yuri could hear the hockey players yelling at them. They were too far for Yuri to make out any words, but he could definitely hear their voices ringing across the lake.

Christophe, understandably so, had a decent lead on Phichit. Yuri wasn’t surprised. Obviously the person who had a head start would be ahead, and he was sure that this time, Christophe would win.

He was surprised when Victor slid to a stop just in front of him, holding out his hands for the finish line. He smiled at Yuri over his shoulder, and Yuri backed up a bit to get Victor in the frame of their video. Within seconds, they were coming back toward them as fast as they could. They were working even harder this second race. Christophe kept his solid lead on Phichit. He flew past Victor, smacking his hand so hard that he almost lost balance. Phichit slid in slowly behind him, tapping his palm unenthusiastically.

“How does that feel?” Christophe said.

“Feels like you cheated,” Phichit said with a wide grin. Christophe’s eyebrow twitched. He skated toward Phichit, arguing with him. Yuri laughed and ended the video; he tried to listen, since he was sure the argument would be amusing, but was distracted when Victor came over to his side.

“We have been here for a few hours, are you ready to head back? I am getting hungry.”

“I am, too. We could go back soon. Where are we going for dinner?”

“I can cook for everyone!” Victor gleamed and smiled brightly.

“No.”

Victor’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Yuri’s stone-cold expression. “No? You don’t like my cooking, Yuri?”

_“No.”_

“But Yuri! Don’t you remember when I made you that pork cutlet bowl”—

“Yeah, I remember. I think we should just take them out somewhere.”

Victor sighed, but the corners of his mouth twitched, and soon he was smiling again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one was hard to write, goddamn, I did not care for this prompt LOL


	9. Poor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri has a present he wants to buy for Victor, but he doesn't have enough money. However, the couple receives a job they can't refuse!

  1. _Poor_



 

Yuri stared at the plush longingly; his phone in his hand was displaying his current bank account balance, which was $17.62. The price tag on the plush read $24.99.

A price his account couldn’t accommodate.

Yuri knew that Victor would _love_ the plush—it looked just like Macca, and would match his tissue box. Yuri had passed the plush three times and every time he’d thought about how much Victor would love it. But his money was tight recently, and of course he couldn’t ask Victor for help, since it would be a present _for him._

It honestly was annoying.

The vendor of the store had caught Yuri eyeing the plush every time. It was getting mildly awkward. Yuri would avoid eye contact, because he knew he couldn’t afford to buy the plush. He didn’t want to have an awkward conversation about it.

Oh no. There it was. The eye contact with the vendor. Yuri began to panic as he came around the counter and approached him; he didn’t want to talk about the plush, especially since his Russian was still lacking.

“Hello,” the vendor greeted in Russian.

Yuri stuttered nervously, contemplating making a run for it—but decided that would be too obnoxious… and rude.

“Hi,” he replied reluctantly in his heavily-accented Russian.

“Do you want to buy that?” he asked.

“Uh, I can’t have enough money.” That sounded _wrong._ Yuri grimaced. The vendor chuckled; at least he seemed to be understanding of Yuri’s language barrier. After all, he was visibly not Russian.

“I understand. Do you want me to…”

Yuri didn’t catch the last bit of the sentence. It was something he’d never heard before. He stared awkwardly while the vendor continued to speak in Russian; he was catching some words that he understood, but since he had missed the whole first part, it threw off the whole sentence for him.

“Do you understand?”

Well… he understood _that._

He stuttered nervously again. The vendor gave a sympathetic smile. Yuri quickly pulled up google translate on his phone, furiously typing in what he wanted to say to the English side. Once the phone had translated it into Russian, he held his phone up for him to see: “ _I didn’t understand. I will come back later to get it.”_

The vendor reached for his phone tentatively, visibly seeking permission—Yuri handed him his phone, waiting patiently for the vendor while he typed his own reply back after reversing the translator. After a moment he passed the phone back, and Yuri looked at what he’d typed. _“I asked if you wanted me to put the plush on hold.”_

Yuri shook his head. “No, thank you,” he said in Russian. “Goodbye!”

He gave a little bow of respect to the vendor before turning and making his escape. He ducked out of the small store, quickly jumping back into the flow of people on the sidewalk. He took a deep sigh of relief—he really couldn’t express _why_ going into the store and seeing the vendor stressed him out so much. It was probably because his Russian was still not good enough.

He opened up his texting with Victor.

 

Yuri Katsuki

**(You need to teach me more Russian.)**

Victor Nikiforov

**(…)**

**(I’m working on it, Yuri. It’s a process!)**

Yuri

**(I’m really, really bad at it. I can barely hold a conversation.)**

Victor

**(It just takes practice. You can’t learn Russian in a day. You’ve lived here in Russia less than a year.)**

Yuri sighed, somewhat disheartened. He really wished he could learn Russian overnight. To live in Russia, he needed to know how to speak Russian, and he felt he was learning _too slow._ He looked down as his phone chimed again.

 

Victor

**(Where are you?)**

Yuri

**(I’m on my way home. I went to the store.)**

Victor

**(What store?)**

 

Yuri

**(Convenience Store. I needed chocolate.)**

 

Victor

**(You got me some, right, Yuri?......)**

 

Yuri sighed. Now he would have to actually go to a convenience store for chocolate in order to cover up his lie.

 

Yuri

**(Yes, I got some for you.)**

 

Victor

 **(Thanks, pork cutlet! Love you!** ♡♡ **)**

 

Yuri

 **(** ♡♡ **)**

 

Yuri shoved his phone back into his pocket, making his way toward the nearest convenience store that he knew of. Which meant he was going to have _another_ conversation with bad Russian. Luckily the convenience store wasn’t far from where he was, and it was on his way home anyway.

He wanted to be in and out quickly. When he reached the entrance, eh went in and straight to the candy aisle. He grabbed two chocolate bars, and went straight for the register. He handed the cashier his chocolate.

“Hi, how are you today?” the cashier asked. So far so good.

“Hello. I’m good,” Yuri replied. He hoped that would be the end of the conversation. The man scanned his candy; Yuri handed him the money; and the cashier handed him his change and candy.

“Have a nice day!”

“Thanks, you too.”

Yuri quickly left the store. Pleased that he hadn’t embarrassed himself, he opened one of the chocolate bars and joyfully began to eat it.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out. Victor had texted him again.

 

Victor

**(CALL ME)**

 

Panic erupted in Yuri’s chest as he scrambled to open Victor’s contact to call him. What could possibly be wrong? All the worst scenarios scrolled through his head. Maybe something happened to Macca. Maybe something happened to Victor!

The phone only rang once before Victor answered.

_“Yuri”—_

“What’s wrong?” Yuri exclaimed.

 _“Calm down,”_ Victor ordered. _“I have great news!”_

Yuri breathed a _massive_ sigh of relief. “What is it?”

 _“We just received an offer to star in a travelling ice show!”_ Victor exclaimed excitedly. _“They want us to each perform programs, and close the shows with Duetto! They’ll pay us $7000 each! Per show! For 3 shows!”_

Yuri almost chocked on the chocolate in his mouth. He coughed for a moment, ignoring Victor’s frantic concerned ‘are-you-okay’s from the other end of the line. Once he calmed down, he brought the phone back to his ear.

“That’s $21,000!” Yuri cried. “For both of us!”

_“Yes!”_

“Did you accept?”

_“Not yet. I wanted to check with you first. I can’t do Duetto alone.”_

“Accept it!” Yuri was getting close to screaming.

_“I will! Don’t yell at me. Jeez, Yuri.”_

Yuri was concerned he would cry in public. This was the offer they _both_ needed. “I’m almost home! I’ll see you soon! Aishteru!”

“Ya lyublyu tebya!”

They ended the call and Yuri speed-walked home. When he opened the door to their house, Victor was already waiting there. He practically threw himself onto Yuri in a hug. They both nearly fell.

 


End file.
